


The Chase

by fckyeahgallavich



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Ballet Dancer, Gallavich, Heavy Angst, M/M, inspired by Gallavich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 18:15:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17533742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fckyeahgallavich/pseuds/fckyeahgallavich
Summary: Noah's up-and-coming ballet dancer boyfriend is missing and as more time passes Noah gets more and more distressed.This was inspired by Gallavich but I didn't include it in the Shameless fandom because this kind of ending might upset people.Ian is JasperMickey is Noah





	The Chase

_Hour one._

He stood outside of the theater watching people walk by, excited chatter about the show creating an echoing cacophony in the stifling space of entirely too many bodies packed together with no clear direction to take. If Jasper were ever late, it was never more than twenty minutes and usually because he got held up by an especially adoring crowd but even so he always called. This was the first time he felt the need to actually walk to the theater to come collect his boyfriend, but it was the most logical course of action considering the circumstances. He had given Jasper almost forty-five minutes including the time it took to walk those five blocks, but his time was up because this was getting ridiculous.

When he first arrived at the theater, anxiety curdling his stomach, he took a moment to take in the magnificent outside of the theater. He remembered when Jasper took him on a tour of the place for the first time, beaming with excitement at having received the principal position for the season. Noah couldn't really care less about the architectural integrity or aesthetic of the building, but damn it if Jasper wasn't rearing to show off every square inch of the outside and inside of the place. And damn it if Noah wasn't perfectly happy to listen to Jasper rambling away because he was so excited he could hardly contain himself and that was the most endearing thing in the world.

At first, Noah just stood there searching for either a fiery head of red hair or the hunter green beanie he always wore in the winter. Noah kept his fists in his pockets, clenched with irritation and worry in an attempt to lessen the similar clench in his stomach, but only seemed to match it. He switched from scanning the people outside, smoking and talking, and examining the still absurdly crowded lobby. Everyone Noah caught in his sight was chattering away and after the first thirty minutes dragged by, his breath caught in jealousy at each couple he caught ogling each other or hugging for warmth. His chest flooded with that suffocating envy and indignant anger that people could be so blissfully unaware that someone was in danger—especially since this person was someone they had just seen perform only an hour before.

 _But what do they care?_ Noah thought resentfully, his lips sinking into a scowl as he watched a group of teenage girls walk by laughing and glowing with their happiness. It almost felt like they were rubbing it in his face that he could be so desolate and so distraught and have it not matter to anyone but himself.

He had to go before he made a scene. Clearly Jasper was not here. Knowing his cold-blooded ass he wouldn't stand outside in the cold for more than ten minutes and the odds of him tolerating that claustrophobe trap in the lobby was equally unlikely.

He pulled a smoke from his back pocket and lit it as he walked away, part of his heart remaining with the place as though he could be in two places at once—as though that part of himself was standing guard.

 

_Hour two._

He walked through the streets of New York, smoking for panic control and keeping his eyes roving at every alleyway and bar or coffeeshop. Maybe Jasper agreed to a drink and one turned into two and two turned into three and a game of charades? Things like that did happen... But typically when Noah was with him. Still, it was a better, lighter thought to the alternatives...

After he walked both sides of these five blocks twice, he was starting to get tired. He stopped right in the middle of the sidewalk—a New York no-no—and whirled around searching for one of Jasper's nearby spots. Somewhere he could sit to catch his breath for a moment while still continuing his search for his boyfriend.

There at the corner at the end of his block was a bar Jasper had been known to have one too many during the off season. It was so unlikely Noah didn't even want to get his hopes up, but at this point just about any positive spot would get him hoping. He jogged to the end of the block and tore into the store.

“Noah!” The bartender greeted warmly, wiping a spot down at the bar for Noah to park it.

“Hey Gavin, how's it hanging?” He asked dismissively, climbing onto the stool and yanking off his gloves to rub some heat into them. Gavin ignored the question and got him his usual.

Noah took a glance around the bar and stared into his glass. They found this place one night when they had first moved to the city. Jasper had not yet heard from any of the theaters he had auditioned for but Noah already had a job lined up for which they were celebrating. Jasper downed four drinks in two hours frantic with excitement and anxiety.

“Ugh, it's that triple I missed... I know that's it! I wasn't good enough, Noah, I wasn't good enough!” Jasper moaned before draining his glass. Noah, who was making his way through his second drink at a snail's pace clapped a comforting hand on Jasper's back.

“Jas, they just have a lot of guys to sift through. I'm sure that letter'll show up by the end of the week.” Jasper released a drunken blubbering sigh.

“You know most companies here don't even send rejection letters? Just let you fret about it till you get the hint.” Noah groaned, starting to give up on the idea that he could reassure his worry-wart of a boyfriend.

“Jas. This isn't like back home. These people have multiple rounds of auditions. They see more male dancers in one afternoon than a strip club has on payroll in its entire operational history.” Jasper stared dumbfounded at Noah for a second as he took a drink. When he put his glass back down Jasper was still staring at him, a stupid grin pulling at the corners of his tired face.

“ _What_?” Noah exclaimed.

“A strip club's payroll?” Jasper repeated drunkenly.

They stared at each other in the muted light of the bar, waiting to see who cracked first... Surprisingly, it was Noah who busted into a fit of laughter which Jasper followed immediately. They roared in laughter so hard and so long that even the bartender joined in. Their laughter was so random yet so infectious that Noah swore he and Jasper's happiness lit up the whole bar.

Jasper did get that letter by the end of the week. Just like Noah had said. Actually, he got it the next day. Before that day, Noah had never seen a guy with Jasper's hangover _literally_ pirouette or jump around in excitement the way he did when he read the “congratulations” in that first line of the letter.

“Where's your better half tonight? You never come in without him.” Noah's stomach sank as Gavin settled in front of him at the bar.

“Uh, that's actually why I'm here. You seen him?” He asked, not even trying anymore to mask his worry. Gavin furrowed his brow and stopped what he was doing to lean on the bar. He examined Noah's face for just a moment before smirking.

“No, I haven't. Trouble in paradise?” He started wiping at the bar with his rag, playing off that stupid 'unload your relationship burdens on the bartender' trope. Normally Noah would have glared at him, maybe communicated a playful threat... But he was too nervous, was trying too hard to keep his wits about him.

“I don't think so... We haven't fought or anything. And after almost ten years he wouldn't just up and leave—I mean... Would he?” Gavin stopped wiping the bar, expression shifting to deadly serious.

“Yeah, that don't sound like Jas. Especially if nothing's wrong, I mean... Anyone can look at yous and see you _fit_ you know?” Noah dragged the glass of beer over and examined it but didn't take a sip. He needed a clear head. “But what are you fretting about for, huh? You know how that kid is always visiting people always getting a hankering to do something or see someone.” Gavin laughed reassuredly. Entirely too jovial for a situation like this.

“But he always _calls_ , Gavin. And especially after a double show day... How would he—?”

“Wait... He didn't come home after a performance?” Noah shook his head, released an anxious breath, and took a shaky sip but pushed it away, the alcohol curdling his stomach like old milk. Gavin's face showed Noah what he knew—he wasn't overreacting and he was right to be worried. Gavin cursed. “Sorry... I was just teasing. You know I—”

“I know. Just... Let the guys know he's MIA and I'll text you when I find him, a'ight?” Noah had to get going, the tears were building and if he started crying he'd be of no use to anyone, least of all Jasper. Gavin nodded and motioned to Noah to put his wallet away, dumping the beer before anyone could see the waste. Noah was halfway to the door when Gavin called to him, “Call the police if you don't find him by the end of the night! I mean it, Noah! That kid is too sweet to do this to you. He—” Gavin cut himself off, shaking his head. “If you don't find him by the end of the night please file a missing person's. He wouldn't do this.” Noah nodded and burst into the street, not ready to even think of that yet.

He retraced his steps back to the theater, scanning the dwindled collection of people one more time—just to be sure.

 

_Hour 3._

He sat on the frozen fountain in front of the building smoking another cigarette, pretending to himself that Jasper would walk out of any of those glass doors right this second, cheeks lit with warmth, asking incredulously what he was doing there, the _you silly thing_ implied in his tone. Noah wanted that so bad he could almost hear it and could almost feel Jasper's satin neck against his forehead as he would dip in to finally release the tears building, releasing the damn near _rage_ boiling beneath his skin because he had been so worried, and for what? But here he was still boiling, growing more and more frantic with each passing second of seeing no Jas.

Fifth cigarette of the night gone, Noah stood once more to pound the pavement one more time before going home and doing as Gavin suggested—he didn't even want to think of that yet. Still didn't want to think about it.

He dipped in and out of any coffee shop or bar Jasper had ever been in even just to use the bathroom. Knowing Jasper, he made friends everywhere and anyone who even recognized him for the hair or from the posters outside of the New York City Ballet building or from the subway could be of use to him. As he approached home and no one had seen him, he kept his phone out shoving Jasper's million-wat smile blaring from the glowing screen into the faces of anyone who would make eye contact with him. Each 'no, sorry' he received added another pound of pressure onto the acceleration pedal of his panic. He was about to start screaming obscenities and kicking things when he caught the attention of an officer and held his hands up in surrender. _I got it, I'm under control_ the gesture said in complete contrast to his unhinged state of his mind.

He stumbled into the first restaurant he could find, determined to find _someone_ who saw him.

“Excuse me?” He called over the music in the peppy bar. A waitress in an outfit he sincerely hoped she wouldn't wear on the frigid streets later tonight stopped him at the door.

“Sir... We saw you outside and you just need to settle down a bit before entering the building. If you can be calm we are more than happy to serve you.”

“I—I um, just need some help finding my boyfriend... He was supposed to be home a little over three hours ago and I'm... Kinda going out of my mind tryna find him.” The waitress, whose name tag labelled her Brigit, gave him a look with so much sympathy Noah almost collapsed, but was able to suck everything back to hold out his phone one more time.

“Have you seen him walking around or maybe somewhere else in the city before your shift started?” Brigit gave the photo a close look.

“I recognize him...” She zoomed the picture out to show Noah's face beaming next to Jasper's. It was the first selfie they'd taken on Noah's phone when it was new and it was the same day that Jasper learned he was going to the corpse. It was two years old but Jasper hadn't changed much. She snapped her fingers in recognition, “Oh! He's the new principal dancer at NYCB! I saw him in _Cinderella_ just last month! He was the prince!”

“Yeah, that's him.” Noah couldn't even afford to get his hopes up that this meant she saw him walking around. Each time he got excited at someone recognizing him, the answer had still been the same, _oh, he's missing? That's such a shame he's so talented! I hope you find him in one piece!_ “Please... Please tell me you've seen him tonight?” He took a shuddering breath and waited for her answer.

“I did actually but it was a couple of hours ago.”

“ _What?!_ When? Where? How did he look? Did he look like he was just going home or—”

“I didn't get a close look or anything, sweetie. I'm sorry. I just noticed a guy that looked like him but I didn't think he was actually _the guy_ , you know?” Noah's chest caved again and he had to bite his lip to keep the roar of aggravation inside.

“Where did you think you saw him?” He asked patiently.

“Just a block down that way,” she replied pointing down back the way he came.

“Thank you so much!” And he tore out of the restaurant, running down the whole block to check every single alley, return to every single store, even those Jasper had never been in a day in his life.

He was no where to be seen.

Noah simply lost it. He backed into a nearby alley and punched and kicked at anything he could, cursing frantically. He knew he was probably calling attention to himself and knew that someone might call the police but at this point he would almost welcome that so he could try to file the report before being carted off.

He abruptly halted all movement, even his breath frozen in his throat. He suddenly remembered opening night of _Nutcracker_ season. Noah had gone because it was Jasper's first time playing the Nutcracker and prince and he was excited for Noah to see. On their way home, Jasper's smile was even brighter than usual because he had landed every single jump, every single turn, his partner had landed everything—the perfect performance. They had been about to step into a bar for a celebratory drink when Noah had noticed a couple of punks following them. He had stopped them outside the door and turned to look at the guys, letting them know he knew they were there. They only stared back, matching sneers on their faces, disgusted.

“ _What_?” Noah demanded. One of the punks looked threateningly at their joined hands which Noah held up to look at incredulously. “You fuckin' kidding me? _This_ bothers you? Obviously you haven't heard but _this_ is normal now. Get the fuck over it.”

“Noah, don't—” Jasper whispered furiously. One of the punks stepped forward trying to intimidate them but Noah stared on undeterred, refusing to let go of Jasper's hand unless he had to. Even though the guy was a good four inches taller, Noah met the man's gaze unafraid. Finally after a weighted moment, the man snorted and looked around at the small collection of people waiting nearby, apparently waiting to see what happened.

“Fuckin' faggots,” The guy sneered in Noah's face before sauntering off, his buddy following close behind. Beside him, Jasper released a nervous breath and he pushed on Noah's shoulder in irritation.

“What the _hell_ was that about?” Jasper hissed furiously. “I can't get in any fights over a couple of homophobic assholes, Noah!” Noah just exhaled harshly and looked away. Jasper kept watching him, waiting for an explanation even though Noah had thought the question was rhetorical.

“Just don't want anyone thinking they can get the upper hand on us, thinking we're weak.”

“That doesn't matter. Let them think what they want. There's no reason to get in a pissing contest over people being pricks!”

“It felt like they were looking to queer bash, a'ight. I was told people do that kind of thing in the city.” Noah had pulled out his smokes to settle his nerves, the adrenaline pumping after the confrontation nauseating him.

“No one just goes around hitting or killing gay people unprovoked anymore. Look at the calendar.” Noah did not respond, smoking quietly and letting Jasper release his anger in his own way.

Noah now remembered his own warning... _people do that kind of thing in the city._

 _No way..._ Noah thought, but a wave of nausea suddenly shook him so violently he gagged. Despite the panic suddenly gripping his core in an icy vise, Noah took off running and ran all four remaining blocks to the apartment.

 

_Hour 4._

Noah's shadow stalked aggressively across the wall of his living room, phone gripped tight in his hand. There was just the one lamp on in the apartment and the low light cast a threatening silhouette against the expanse of brick he worriedly paced beside. He had just hung up with the police, demanding they let him file a missing person's report but insisting he stay home in case he did end up coming home. He knew he was being difficult, but they would just have to forgive his abrasiveness considering the circumstances. The officer on the phone insisted he needed to wait at least twenty-four hours before filing a report, but Noah knew that was a load of shit. He could file a missing person's report at any time, and damn him, he did. Jasper was _never_ late. Especially not after a performance and _especially_ not after a double show day. He was too tired to stay out late and the theater was only five blocks away. And after everything Noah had endured tonight, he was ready to get this search going.

The officer promised someone would be there soon. Probably another crock. The cops didn't seem too concerned regardless of how many times he repeated: _He's_ never _late._ The officer had just inquired “who is going to bother a ballet dancer walking the streets of _New York City_ between the theater and five blocks to your apartment?” to which Noah had sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in aggravation, drawing on the universe to give him patience. The guy talked to him as though he hadn't already pounded the pavement searching every inch of those five blocks for the past three hours—as though that wasn't enough to be convinced that something bad had happened.

“Just stay home, sir, we'll find your boyfriend.” The officer sighed into the phone, clearly annoyed and clearly not believing the crisis here. It had taken all of Noah's concentration not to lose his temper because losing his temper with the people who were supposed to help him would only hurt Jasper.

Ten minutes after he hung up with the police, Noah realized he was wasting his time by not being out on the streets continuing to look for him... but here he was wearing footfalls into the stone floor of their living room four hours after Jasper was supposed to have walked through that door. He didn't even bother pacing on the oriental rug they had just acquired, preferring instead the jarring frigidity of the stone pricking into the skin of his soles with each step. The cold and the discomfort kept him on edge, kept him aware, and distracted him from the most concerning of thoughts threatening to break through to full acknowledgement.

He pictured how their night would have gone should Jasper walked through that door like normal. He'd have welcomed him home with a quick kiss and hug—something he realized now in his panic that he took for granted—and would have pulled something out of the refrigerator for a light supper and would start heating it up for them as Jasper gave any unique detail to these shows that set them apart from the usual. There was _always_ something unique to tell and Noah always listened intently, Jasper's excitement and passion making _him_ excited and having him hanging on every word like when they were young and learning each other. Jasper would have ended his account as always, with a sigh, a broad grin, and 'aw, well, anyway. What did you do today?' Noah could almost hear Jasper's words now and he almost felt sick with want to hear them. After dinner, they would have been joking around all night as though they were still seventeen and back home. But instead, Noah was here struggling not to punch the wall—again—because he was just so _angry—a_ ngry at the cops, angry at himself, angry at _Jasper._

Noah sank down on the couch and forced himself not to think of Jasper laying in his lap and lazily chatting away about _anything._ There was never a dull or quiet moment with Jasper. He radiated joy like literal sunshine as warm as his fiery red hair which Noah would currently be gently running his fingers through at the moment if Jasper were here. He tried _so_ hard to stop thinking about how their nights usually ended... How it would be ending right now if he were home—Jasper reaching up out of the blue, probably mid-sentence, wrapping his hand around the back of Noah's neck and dragging him in for a long kiss. It was as amusing as it was arousing because this was simply Jasper's style. If the mood struck, it struck and he made sure to let Noah know.

Noah swung his body around and lay on the couch the way Jasper usually did, phone clutched to his chest, and started counting the bricks in the ceiling, tracing patterns in the ridiculously expensive and ridiculously unnecessary painting Jasper had begged him for as a gift for his acceptance into the New York City Ballet, looked at his own fingers, _anything_ to keep his mind off what they would usually be doing right now. It was simply too painful. And as much as he longed for that usually, at this moment he just longed to _see_ him if only for a moment and if only to know he was okay and would continue to be okay.

Noah beat a fist on the backrest of the sofa, biting on a sob that had been settled low in his chest for the better part of a half hour now. He beat it again, and again, until he just dug his fingers into the dingy material, clawing at it so he wouldn't release the agony inside. If he lost it, he would never recover, and he needed to keep his wits about him.

As he pawed the sofa, Noah thought absently about the smaller parts of their relationship. This sofa, for example, had seen some serious shit—fist fights between Noah and their bar buddies, cigarette burns, whole whisky shots accidentally poured out which served as a signal to everyone in attendance to their small parties that this was _the_ one too many and everyone should start winding down to go home. And of course this couch held many heated kisses, many whispered I love yous, too many secrets and movie nights, and so many beginnings to memorable nights in bed.

Noah allowed his fingers to roam over the coarse fabric, gripping at the most plush portion of the cushion he could find. He mangled the stuffing so hard in his white-knuckled fist that he almost feared he would rip the entire section out in his grip, and so forced himself to release it. When Jasper came back, in whatever state he may be in, he didn't want to add fixing the sofa to the list of things they would need to talk about or figure out.

He wasn't a spiritual person, didn't know about believing in any being in the sky watching over the humans like ants in an ant farm... But he prayed. With every brain cell and every fiber in his being he prayed for Jasper's safe return. He thanked whatever was listening for the time they had together and begged shamelessly for more. They had met when they were super young, both of them 12 years old, and played ball together but never really got to know each other until they were 15. Jasper had started dancing and Noah had fought off the pricks who tried to make fun of him for it. Friendship blossomed and by 18 they were head over heels for each other, Jasper begging Noah to go with him to New York for the opportunity of a lifetime. The decision had been easy and they had made the move within the year.

Noah released a panicked breath and wiped tears from the corners of his eyes, demanding he calm himself down before he lost his head. Losing his cool would not help anyone.

And it was in that moment that the knock sounded from the door. Noah jumped up and reached the door in record time, not even checking the peephole.

“Yes?” He breathed as soon as the door opened wide enough for him to recognize the cop's uniform. “Jasper?”

“Noah Galey?” The officer's voice sounded solemn... remorseful... final. The breath punched out of Noah's chest as he absorbed the cop's tone, the haggard look on his face—from general cop-related sleep deprivation, or—?

“No...”

“You are Noah Galey?” Noah looked between the two officers at the door, both looking like they would rather be doing anything else. But not in the same way that the aggravated officer on the phone gave him that impression. This was different.


End file.
